


safety my dear, it's why i'm here.

by jjwritesthings



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Baby Floris | Fundy, Cool uncle Tommy because I love him, Domestic Fluff, Early L'Manburg Days, Family Fluff, Father Wilbur Soot, Fluff, Past Sally/Wilbur, Sally the Salmon (Mentioned) - Freeform, Uncle Tommyinnit, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, and we were robbed of that, cause Sallys gone lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29537721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjwritesthings/pseuds/jjwritesthings
Summary: It's a late night, and Wilbur is with his family.(or in another words, a small fluffy fic with Baby Fundy, Uncle Tommy and Wilbur being a tired father.)
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & TommyInnit, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 16
Kudos: 116





	safety my dear, it's why i'm here.

**Author's Note:**

> just a little small something! I haven't written fluff for this fandom yet and I think we are in need of some rn, so here you go <3
> 
> I also just wanted cool uncle Tommy because I'm too attached to him and baby Fundy bonding and you can pry that from my cold dead hands :)
> 
> anyways, enjoy!!

Safety is what Wilbur had once grown up with, once upon a time. It was what he had promised his love when he had first fallen in love with her, it was what he had strived for as he was given a son, kept a brother and lost the love of his life. A place to call home, a place where the very definition of it was safety, a land risen simply from only his will, determination and silver tongue. A place he had made with his calloused hands and golden heart for his boys, a place Sally would have been proud of. 

Sally would know how to deal with his currently crying five year old, or- who he thinks is five years old anyway. She would know how to take care of a son who had made him have constant sleepless nights, or wake up to the noise of crying. She would know how to survive this pain of trying to be the best parent you could be to your kid. She would also probably know how to handle the hybrid abilities she had passed down to his little baby boy. Hybrid genes had shortened the aging time for Fundy, and in a matter of months he had whizzed through his newborn phase, and already almost finished being a toddler. Wilbur was grateful he didn’t have to deal with the normal human span of toddlerhood, lord knew he wouldn’t have been able to handle the ‘terrible twos’, but he digressed. 

He knew he wouldn’t be crowned ‘best father of all time’, especially when he was a single father looking after his younger brother, a new nation _and_ his son as well. He had quite the handful. Some part of him told him he had sort of brought that upon himself, but the promise of safety, the _need and want_ for it, that was much more important. And anyways, he was doing a much better job than Phil had ever done, so he took the small wins, even though sometimes it also felt that he didn’t deserve that either, considering Phil had done a pretty terrible job of parenting Wilbur and Tommy himself. 

Whatever, at least he knew that he wasn’t going to suddenly drop everything and leave Fundy for someone he just found more tolerable, more fun and more enjoyable to be around. That wasn’t how love worked. He knew love wasn’t ever supposed to be easy. He knew from rigorous experience that being a father wasn’t all daisies and sunshine, and he had spent countless nights crying into his bed sheets thinking that he was going to have to give Fundy away to someone else because he was struggling handle how Fundy sometimes wouldn’t stop crying, even though he was trying everything he could to comfort him and keep him happy. He knew that children were sometimes the absolute worst due to childish naivety and youthful ignorance. Raising Tommy for more than half of his life had taught him that, but he had never had to deal with a baby. He kept trying and kept going, kept loving, because it was what kept him alive and happy. Kept all of them alive and happy.

And although through all of those shitty times Wilbur had to go through, whether it was worrying how him and a nine-year-old Tommy would be able to eat one night, or whether Fundy had refused to eat anything Wilbur tried to give him, sometimes his boys would send a smile his way so bright, so full of the sun and warmth, that all of his worry and stress melted away, and there was only love left in his heart. He would fight tooth and nail for those smiles, he would raise worlds and burn them down just to see it. 

Anything for those boys, _anything._

The muffled sounds of Fundy’s cries had hushed a little, and so Wilbur assumed that the little kid was going to send himself off the sleep again. Then he heard another voice enter Fundy’s bedroom, a low, muffled voice either talking to the kid or soothing him, he wasn’t quite sure. Who the hell was awake at this hour? He knew that he himself normally stayed up at ungodly hours of the early morning, but it was strange to hear anyone else at this time. The sun hadn’t even risen yet. 

He tossed in his bed a little, debating on whether to try and just get back to sleep or to go and investigate what was going on next door. He lay there in silence, looking up at the ceiling, the thoughts bouncing around in his head as the beats passed. One beat, then another. 

A giggle and soft cooing came again from the other room. Right, that was it then. 

Wilbur decided to go investigate. Groaning and grumbling as he reluctantly pushed himself out of bed, he ran his hands through his bed-messed hair, trying to tame it a little as he sat up, then looking up to the window on his left. The sky, a mix of dark navies and starry night blues were bathed in the light of the stars and the full moon, which sat in the sky, silently giving life to the land below. Wilbur sighed and stood up, rolling his shoulders back to wake himself up. He walked over to the door of his bedroom, blinking a little from the sleepiness still clinging onto him, picking up a soft brown sweater that was hanging on his door hook, then sluggishly pulled it over his head, which subsequently ruined his hair which he had just tried to keep in control. He was too tired to care at the moment.

Fatherhood, huh? Wilbur was tempted to say it was the most horrible experience. But then again, he’d do anything for his son. A simple smile from the kid and Wilbur would be a puddle on the floor.

As he opened the door, and was met with the soft light on the hung lanterns on the hallway’s walls, causing him to squint, he heard the soft tap of footsteps slowly move away from him, and the eager and babbling voice of Fundy’s go the same direction. Wilbur rubbed his eyes to try and wake himself up once more, and trudged down the hallway, following the muffled voice of his son babbling on about the evening or whatever it was he had caught on about this time. He was at that age, Wilbur assumed, where kids talked about everything they saw around them as if it was the most incredible subject in the world. Wilbur enjoyed it, really, he found it sweet. It had reminded him of Tommy, when he was still curious about the life around him that much.

He walked down the hallway, following the footsteps of whoever was accompanying Fundy, and quickly found himself standing a few metres away from what he could now see was Tommy holding his nephew in his arms, quietly nodded enthusiastically while the orange-haired kid babbled on. Wilbur watched from a distance as his brother made a comment here or there to Fundy’s antics, watching the kid warmly, and then smiling and giggling a little when Fundy did something amusing, with Fundy giving a cocked head in confusion before carrying on. The sight was so utterly domestic, so rare and unique, and Wilbur’s heart swelled with pride at the scene. Too bad he didn’t have a camera to capture the perfect moment. 

Tommy said something about the evening and the sky, and pointed to the open window opposite them, which was wide open, letting in a soft cold breeze throughout the halls. Wilbur’s mind quickly shifted to anxious thoughts about the carelessness of the open window, they could be ambushed for all they know, but he decided to push them down, saving them for another day. He instead watched his son’s eyes widen, turning to look at the sky above, and the splitting grin on his small face made Wilbur’s heart melt even more, if that was even possible. He leaned against a wall, not wanting to disturb his son’s time with his uncle, simply observing how Tommy was handling Fundy.

He had been doing a better job than Wilbur expected him to, really, and he had taken to looking after Fundy quickly and whenever possible; going out to play with him when the kid got too restless to sit inside for too long, entertaining and cheering him up when Fundy got upset, even going as far as feeding him when Wilbur was beyond tired. He was incredibly grateful for it, as it let him get on with other things without having to worry about what his son might be doing every five seconds. It also had gained him a couple more hours of sleep here and there, so he was thankful for it, as he hadn’t lost his sanity quite yet. He was glad Tommy knew the toll that Fundy had taken on him, however much a blessing he still was, and he was proud of him, so very much. 

“Do you think Dad is still up?” Fundy’s small voice cut in, as he kept his eyes on the sky outside. 

Tommy let out a small chuckle. “He will if you keep talking that loudly big guy,”

“You’re not quiet though,” Fundy fired back.

“Well that’s because I’m a big man, get to be as loud as I want,” 

Wilbur scoffed at his younger brother’s comment, catching the two other boy’s attention as they turned to meet him.

“You’ll wake up the entire SMP if you keep talking like that Tommy,” 

Tommy huffed at the comment and sent a funny face Wilbur’s way, which caused both him and Fundy to laugh at his childness. “Tommy! Fundy’s gonna pick those up if you don’t stop,” he joked.

“Bold of you to assume he hasn’t already,” Wilbur quirked an eyebrow at that.

“I will not let my son become a Tommy two, thank you,”

“Oh come on, it would be a blessing to be me!” He flashed a smile back.

Wilbur only laughed at the comment lightly and soon both the others had joined him. They soon calmed down, probably from the fatigue of tiredness taking over them, but soon they all let out a collective sigh, before chuckling once more. 

“So-” Wilbur walked up to the two of them, combing his fingers through Fundy’s messy orange hair. He felt the small boy lean into his hand, which was basically the size of his small head, and almost cooed at the gesture. “-what have you been up to, champ?” 

“Me and uncle Tonny are being big guys! We’re staying up late!” Fundy’s enthusiastic tone lightened up Wilbur, and he ruffled Fundy’s hair more. 

Tommy snorted a little, adjusting the kid in his arms. “Found him crying like the little kid he is and decided he needed some fresh air,” he murmured, Wilbur snorted. 

“Little gremlin giving you a hard time then?”

“Hey!” Wilbur chuckled as his son cut back into the conversation.

“Don’t worry Fundy, your uncle here did the same thing, I would say he was even worse,” He whispered the last bit up close to Fundy’s ear, like some small secret between the two of them.

“Oi!” Tommy barked back, and both father and son dissolved into laughter again. 

The night was quiet, for the most part. Only now and again was it filled with the noises of small quips from brothers back and forth, with the occasional input from a son and a nephew, from a little kid who was still learning what the world was around him, forgetting a lady who disappeared down a river and loving the two boys, the two men, the two people at his side. He watched the moon as it lit up the sky above and his home below, a curious spark lighting up in his heart and eyes, and he watched the dust of what clouds were left in the sky move by. His eyelids began to feel heavy.

Wilbur breathed in the evening air and closed his eyes. Weeks of fatigue seemed to be catching up right then, piling up on his shoulders and laying themselves deep into the crevices of his mind, but he let himself enjoy the moment. He heard Tommy shift next to him, and he opened an eye to see him now adjusting a sleeping Fundy, resting the five-year-old’s head on his shoulder. The boy looked peacefully asleep, only shifting a little in his slumber. Wilbur let out a breath of relief.

“Hopefully he actually stays asleep this time,” Wilbur let out a breathy laugh.

“We can only hope,” Tommy only hummed in response. It wasn’t like him to respond so quietly or non-vocally, Wilbur noted, but it was too late for him to dwell on it at the moment. Instead, he dwelled on the fact that even though he was even hitting his late twenties yet and had a son, Tommy at sixteen was thriving at looking after his nephew. It was like he knew Fundy like the back of his hand even after only being born some months ago, the bond was strong between them, Wilbur could see it. His mind slowly drifted to all the little things Tommy had done to help him out when he was either too tired or stressed to deal with Fundy, the times Tommy would sometimes dedicate his whole day to Fundy, just so Wilbur could have some space, the times he would carefully explain to a crying Fundy why his father needed a little space, the times he would let Wilbur have his own time with his son. Tommy knew Fundy like the back of his hand already, but years of knowing Wilbur the same way had made him more observant and smart than he liked to let on. Wilbur grinned a little. 

For a boy who talked a lot, much of the important stuff went unsaid.

And for as loud as Tommy could be, his actions always seemed to speak louder.

“What you smiling about now?” 

“Nothing,” He replied simply, continuing to grin.

Tommy raised an eyebrow, not fully convinced. “Sure,” he said back, before turning back to face the window again. 

Wilbur’s mind and body may have been heavy with the stress and fatigue of the past few weeks, but the evening had let some of that melt away, even if it was just for a little bit. Even the smallest time to rest, to spend some relaxed time with his son, to just chill around with Tommy, every little bit lifted a small piece of stress off of his shoulder. Wilbur looked up to the moon, like it was tugging him. He felt lighter than he had in weeks. 

“Thanks,” He says a bit later, breaking the silence.

“It’s nothing,” 

“I didn’t know the great Tommy could be humble,” Wilbur quipped.

“Don’t expect to see more of it then, dick,” Tommy replied, and they both chuckle.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They watch the sky once more as the moon shines down onto the land below, the stars freckling the deep blue-black sky. It was a quiet evening, really, Fundy was just being a kid, he was also tired, so Wilbur’s night hadn’t really been disturbed. If anything, seeing Tommy and Fundy together had made his evening better, he had been having a pretty shitty day beforehand, and seeing Tommy being such the great uncle that he was- well it always made him feel a lot better. He looked down, his eyes wandering over to the camper van, which sat idly among the trees and small hills. It looked comfy and warm, among the greenery, it looked safe.

Wilbur caught a glimpse of Fundy sleeping on Tommy from the corner of his eyes, and couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across his face. He looked so tranquil there, a funny juxtaposition to his normal energetic behaviour. Wilbur loved it all the same. 

The night was quiet, the moon watched.

It felt safe.

**Author's Note:**

> I miss OG L'Manburg days so much just- *sobs*
> 
> Also please uncle Tommy is just the best I want to see more of it on ao3 PLEASE-
> 
> kudos and comments make my day! I love talking to you guys (and I'm lonely so please-)
> 
> wanna come chat more and see me rant? my Tumblr is @jjcantfuckingwrite :)
> 
> take care <3


End file.
